


Those memories long gone

by nevernlandia



Series: James and Thomas AU [1]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Black Sails Modern AU, M/M, Prompt Fic, but short so read it, short and uninteresting, wig
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 22:19:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7731892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevernlandia/pseuds/nevernlandia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James and Thomas visit Thomas's old house after his father's death</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those memories long gone

**Author's Note:**

> Found the prompt "What the hell are you wearing?" and of course it had to Thomas and a wig. 
> 
> Not edited, badly written 'cause English is not my language so bad grammar and a lot of mistakes. Any help or constructive comment welcome.
> 
> This prompt has inspired me a prequel on how they both meet which I'm writting in Spanish. I might translate it (or not).  
> Also this story might have more chapters if I can find out how to write it.

The room was strangely cold and impersonal as if nobody had actually lived there for years. James was disappointed to not find anything that reminded of Thomas’ childhood there. No toys, no embarrassing teenage posters on the walls, no books. Nothing. He was sure Thomas had owned dozens of books, though, but the shelves were empty. No dust, the bed was clean, the wardrobe… James walked to it and opened the door. Just hangers. The Hamiltons had totally erased their only son’s presence from that room as if he had never been there, as if he had never existed. That was worse than if he had died.  
He heard his steps coming back to the bedroom and closed the wardrobe door.  
“What the hell are you wearing?” James looked at Thomas with an amused smile on his face.  
“A wig”, Thomas said as if he had wore one of those all his life. “I found it on my father’s trunk in the attic. I think it was my uncle Harry’s. He was a barrister.”  
“Shit, that’s an ugly one. I’m glad my parents couldn’t make me study Laws,” said James coming closer and touching the white yellowing fabric. “I always thought they were smaller.”  
“They are. This one is for important events.”  
“Like what?”  
“Like the Queen coming for tea. I don’t know, James.”  
James sat on the bed and Thomas joined him. The blond man didn’t seem to be in the best of moods and looked quite grim despite of wearing a ridiculous wig.  
“You should have studied Laws. It suits you.”  
“I thought you said it was ugly.”  
“Nothing looks ugly on you. You wear the most outrageous things with such elegance, Thomas…”  
That made him smile at last. He took the big off and scratched his beautiful blond hair.  
“I think it has fleas.”  
James laughed and passed his hand along Thomas’ back. The man sighed and leant on his friend’s shoulder.  
“It’s normal to be a little sad, you know,” said James, his hand stil on Thomas’ back. “He was your father after all.”  
“He was a bastard, he made my life a living hell. I’m glad he’s dead.”  
“You don’t look like you are, Thomas.”  
“Well, it was the funeral. And seeing my mother cry. But I’m not sad for him, I’m not”, Thomas was a little too assertive. James knew what that meant. Thomas could not accept the fact that he was actually sad for a man he should hate so much. That was Thomas, all heart and compassion even for the ones who had hurt him most. He was willing to forgive him for what he had done too easily and that was what he could not accept. His father had seen that as weakness of character when being like Thomas was (compassive, caring, kind, honest, loving) took a lot more strenght than being the distant cold bastard full of hate and prejudice Alfred Hamilton always was.  
“I expected to see some of you here” James said wanting to change the subject. “Have you found your things?”  
“There are some boxes in the attic. And I’d like to take my old books home. The rest… I don’t know. I thought they would have rid of my old stuff long ago but my mother kept it. I guess she never lost faith.”  
“I want to see them before you decide what to do.”  
“Really?”, Thomas let himself fall flat on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “Why? It’s just a lot of crap, mostly.”  
“I’ve always wanted to see what sort of things you liked when you were a teenager. You never talk much about those years.”  
“I have no many happy memories of those times, James. And I didn’t keep any journal with dirty secrets which is probably you’re after.”  
“Oh, you know me so well,” James laughed. “No porn magazines or videos either?”  
“Do you think my very religious mother would have kept those?” Thomas laughed too. “But I had some quite erotic books. I bet they never knew.”  
James laid on the bed next to the taller man. Thomas moved to face him, his head propped on his hand.  
“It must have been lonely to live here” James said lowering his voice to almost an intimate whisper, “with no friends around, no brothers or sisters to play with.”  
“It was boring when I wasn’t in the boarding school.”  
James’s mind flew to remember his own childhood and teenage years, spending so many hours outdoors with his friends. Thomas and he were so unlike, two people with different background, experiences, education, social circles. Two people who surely had never met if life or fate had not put them in the same place at the same time. A coincidence James could never be thankful enough for.  
He moved his hand to touch Thomas’s face, his soft silky white skin which seemed not to have aged since the day they had met almost fifteen years ago. Thomas smiled and let him run his fingers along his cheek until he reached his lips. A familiar gesture he loved. Just being touched by James, anywhere, everywhere, made him happy. And James loved to see the expression of his lover when he did that, like a content siamese cat being petted, half closing his deep blue eyes with pleasure.   
“How much time do we have?” James asked.  
“Enough,” Thomas replied. “My mother told me to take a look at the house for other things I wanted to keep. Do you think we need anything else?”   
“Your uncle’s wig. I like that ugly shit.”  
Thomas sneered. “You and your kinks, James.”


End file.
